Cat's Cradle
by Song Of A Free Heart
Summary: Superhero AU Life isn't easy when you're a college student who moonlights as a superhero. But if Thia thought she was getting a hang of it, things are about to get flipped on their head. For two years a certain white haired cat burglar has been a pain in her neck. But she's about to get caught up in the tangled cat's cradle that is his life - and it's not what she expected.


**I had this idea about six months ago, when Sophiefarts on tumblr posted some pictures of Jack as a cat burglar… but I wanted to finish **_**Among The Stars**_** before I started it. Now ATS is done, and here's the first chapter of Cat's Cradle.**

**A huge thanks to Iggyfing on tumblr, who betad this chapter for me, and was a huge help with Pitch's personality. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Rise of the Guardians**_** or any related elements. They are the intellectual property of William Joyce and DreamWorks Animation SKG. I'm just a fan. **

_Cat's Cradle_

_Chapter 1: String Games_

Stakeouts were not Thia's forte.

By no stretch of the imagination was she a quiet person. She liked music, and laughter, and colors. Sitting still had always been a challenge for her. So the museum after-hours was a stark contrast: shadowed, severe, deathly quiet, and painfully still.

Unfortunately, stakeouts were a necessary evil of her job, much as she disliked sitting and waiting for something that might never come.

From her position amongst among the ornate gothic architecture that disguised the catwalks that crisscrossed high above the museum floor, she looked down at the glass case in the center of the display room.

Under the glass, resting on a black velvet pillow was the Cat's Eye necklace, named for the green stone with a black slit in the center. It was the focal point of the intricate gold necklace, set in gold and accented with onyx, pearls, and emeralds. It was old, with a complicated story historians could never agree on, and considered priceless. Personally, Thia thought it was cumbersome and gaudy in an antique way.

But it was exactly the kind of thing _he_ would go for. (She'd known the moment she commented to Aster how ugly it was.)

And after three weeks, it had been nestled among its black velvet long enough security had begun to grow lax – as emphasized by the fact the guard hadn't left the console room all night. (Fat lot of good that would be – she was pretty sure the cat burglar had control of the security cameras.)

She checked her watch, the digital numbers illuminated by the backlit screen. 2:43

Normally he would have come and gone by two.

Justice never slept, or something noble like that. But for all her powers and skintights, she was a human being, not an idea. And human beings needed sleep, much as she might wish it otherwise. If she didn't get some sleep, she would be an absolute wreck in class the next day. And she had math first thing, at 10 am.

If she went home now she could get maybe six hours sleep.

Of course, if she left, and the necklace was stolen, no amount of sleep would help with the guilt she would feel.

But she needed sleep.

And it was starting to get really cold. (At least her tax dollars weren't being wasted on heating a museum that was supposed to be empty.)

How long could she reasonably wait?

"Ya know..."

Thia froze at the deep, taunting voice that echoed off the faux marble walls. So convoluted she couldn't tell where it was coming from. She had yet to figure out how he managed to do that.

"Kids usually wait up for the Tooth Fairy. Not the other way around." He chuckled. "I must be special."

"Don't kid yourself." Thia stood up slowly from where she'd sat. Her eyes searched around the showroom, straining for any movements that would indicate his position. For the hundredth time she wish the museum hadn't gone with all this gothic architecture when they had remodeled a few years earlier. It created too many places for him to hide.

"Hmm…" The sound resonated off the walls, before filtering down to a single point. "I think you're in denial, Kitten."

Thia gasped and spun on her heel… to find him leaning against the wall behind her as though he _wasn't_ breaking into Burgess Art Museum to steal a priceless necklace at 2:45 in the morning.

His white hair was windswept as usual, sticking out in every direction, bangs just skimming the top of his goggles. With the red tint of the lenses she couldn't tell what color his eyes were – they looked purple in the rare cases she got close enough to look. His black skintights showed off his lean build, and in the right light she could just make out the muscle contours underneath.

"It's been a while." He yawned as he pushed away from the wall. She averted her eyes to avoid the sight of his teeth. Villains were not supposed to have teeth that sparkled like freshly fallen snow. It shouldn't be allowed.

Of course, villains weren't supposed to be so beautiful, period. But there he was.

"Do we have to do this tonight?" he asked. "I'm already behind schedule."

How could he be so casual?

Rather than respond, Thia flew toward him, aiming a fist for his face. But he stepped out of the way with a dramatic sigh. She attempted another punch. This time he caught her wrist. She tried to pulled back, but instead of letting her go, he pulled her in, grinning as their faces came within inches of each other.

"Admit it – you missed me."

"In your dreams," she muttered. She lashed out with her foot, the toe of her boot hitting his shin. It was enough to make his grip loosen as he stumbled back, and it was enough for her to twist her wrist free and put a few feet between herself and the cat burglar. Good to know the Women's Self Defense class she'd taken had been worth more than just three college credits.

Balance restored, he clicked his tongue. "Violence. Always violence with you, Kitten."

"Don't call me that," she said, throwing another punch.

He sighed again, swatting her fist aside. "Why do we have to do things the hard way?"

"If you—" Thia started, but it was cut off the when the thief threw his grappling hook over her right shoulder. It latched onto a higher tier of the arch, and he pulled the attached cable taut. With a running start, he used it to leap onto a parallel catwalk.

He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, form and balance perfect. After a few months of fighting him she'd thought about trying to learn Parkour… but after a few feeble attempts, and watching his form, she'd given up.

"Sorry, I'm pressed for time," he said, turning back to her. "What were you saying?"

"If you had a conscience, you wouldn't have to waste your nights with me!" Too late. She'd been proud of that line…

"I threw off your timing, huh?" he asked, a note of sympathy in his tone. (That almost made it worse.)

"Yes!"

"Sorry. It's a good line, though." His voice once more resounded off the walls, so he didn't have to raise his voice to continue the conversation even as he walked away from her. "Now, hard way? Or easy way?"

"The easy way would be for you to turn yourself over to the police and spare me all this hassle!"

He actually paused and glanced back. "Nice recovery."

She felt her cheeks warm a little, and a smile start, a "thank you" rushing to her lips – before she remembered who she was talking to and shook them off. (But after two years of this back and forth, she knew he was clever enough that coming from him it was quite a compliment.)

He chuckled, and there was just enough light for her to see him shake his head. Mostly just in the way the bluish light played off his white hair.

"You're just so cute when you're in such a huff," he said. There was an amused tone to his voice. And something almost affectionate, if she dared think about that. But she absolutely refused.

Thia grimaced as he stepped deeper into the shadows, out of her sight.

Why had the museum agreed to this architecture? Someone should have been smart enough to realize it just made it easier for people like him.

"You do remember you can fly, right?" he asked suddenly.

Thia opened her mouth, but clamped it shut before he could realize he had flustered her enough to make her momentarily forget about her powers. (She was exhausted, after all! And because he was late!) She berated herself internally as she lifted off the catwalk and flew after him into the shadows. Her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of the white haired cat burglar.

The air was quiet, as it had been before his arrival. But it now buzzed with energy. An exhilarating quiver he always brought to the room. Tonight, though, it only served to exhaust her further.

Something hissed through the air and coiled around her ankle. It tightened before she had a chance to slip away, and it pulled her flight to a stop. She looked down and saw his grappling hook around her leather booted ankle. There was just enough time for her to register the thin cable before a strong yank from the other end dragged her into the shadows.

As she neared the wall a strong arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her against his side.

"Ya know-" he flicked his wrist and the cable uncoiled from her ankle "-you'd miss me if I wasn't around."

"No, I wouldn't!" she snapped, fighting against his hold. "I would get my sleep!"

She felt his chest expand as he took a deep breath.

"That hurts, Kitten. You're one of the few highlights in my life."

Once, Thia would have been extremely confused by those words. She had been for the first few months. Until Edmund had pointed out it was probably a psychological trick to throw her off her game. She reminded herself of that now, and told herself that what sounded like sincerity was no doubt just really good acting.

She tried to slam her heel down into his toe, but her leg wasn't long enough. If there was an advantage to being short, she just couldn't see it at the moment.

He let go suddenly, and Thia darted away. Hovering in midair, she glared into the shadows, where she could just see light reflecting off the curvature of his face. "Would you stop playing and fight me?"

"Do we have to?"

She glared in the direction of his voice.

"Fine." He stepped out of the shadows.

Thia braced herself as he adjusted his hold on his grappling cable. He threw it around a nearby column, tugging to make sure it was firmly in place. In the back of her mind she knew the angle was all wrong. The step off the cat walk and the arc of his swing was several feet beyond her.

She spun and watched him land light footed on top of the glass case. Even through his red-tinted goggles she could see his "you-should-have-seen-that-coming" expression as he looked up at her with a smirk.

"This is so not fair."

She flew down, intent on knocking him off the case.

At the last moment, he jumped down and ducked behind the case so she sailed over his head. By the time she managed to counter her own momentum, she was a good ten feet past him. When she looked back he was back on the case… and the Cat's Eye necklace winked at her as it dangled from the clawed fingers of his gloves.

"It's been fun, Kitten. Really. But I think it's time for me to say good night." He tossed the necklace and caught the chain effortlessly. He was running as soon as his feet hit the floor, and within moments the shadows swallowed his form.

Now, though she was exhausted, Thia had the slight advantage of preplanning. After nearly two years of questionable sanity, doing the same thing with the same frustrating results, she'd turned her mind to strategizing a few days earlier, when she'd been fully awake.

Instead of chasing after him the way she usually did, she flew straight upward. Above the catwalks she smashed into the skylight. She used her arms to shield her face from the shards of glass that fell to the floor, around the empty display case.

A few shards scratched her skin. Nothing she couldn't shrug off. She flew higher until the area around the museum was laid out beneath her. Every possible exit. She kept her eyes peeled for the flash of his white hair.

A moment later, in the shadow of one of the roof's turrets, an air vent opened from the inside and he slipped onto the black tiled roof. He began to wrap his cable, looking around for any sign of her.

The only place he didn't look was up.

Thia dropped, gravity giving her speed as she plummeted toward him (and prayed she would survive).

He sensed her just before they collided. Not enough time for even his reflexes to react. Her weight and momentum knocked him off his feet.

They rolled across the uneven roof, grunting when they reached the edge of one rise and dropped six inches to the next area of roof. Thia felt her limbs tangle with his… and wished she'd given this plan a little more thought.

He finally threw out an arm and grabbed onto something. Just before they reach the slant of the roof that dropped off to the unforgiving alley behind the museum. His other arm was tight around her waist, holding her under him as they came to a stop.

"_Are you trying to get us killed?_"

"Let go of me!" She wriggled in an attempt to get some distance from his surprisingly cold body. Completely by accident her elbow collided with his stomach, and he grunted. She smirked in satisfaction as his grip loosened enough for her to fly out of his hold.

Before he could get to his feet, Thia took advantage of the opening and dove for the pouch on his belt. The one always used to stash items he stole.

He rolled out of the way just in time, grabbing her wrist and dragging her back down to the roof.

Thia made another attempt at the pouch. But he caught her hand. The claws from his gloves pierced the fabric over her palms just enough she could feel them scrape at the skin.

With both her wrists in his grip, neither of them had use of their hands. And Thia was extremely aware of the compromising position she found herself in. He wasn't even six foot, and his build was lean. But he dwarfed her four foot eleven inches. And there was no question he was strong. Not that it stopped her from trying to break free.

Twisting her hips, she slammed her knee into his thigh with all the force she could muster. His weight was supported on his knees, keeping him from crashing down on her. The blow caused all his weight to shift to the opposite side. She took advantage of his momentary unbalance. But his hold on her wrist didn't release. When he rolled onto his back with a groan, she found herself straddling his waist.

Why did this always happen?

Beneath her he gasped to refill his lungs. "You're gonna have to buy me dinner first, Kitten."

"Can you stop flirting for five minutes?" she asked, scrambling to change their positions as best she could when tethered by his grip on her wrists.

He shook his head. "Psychological disorder. Borderline split-personality. I have father issues."

"Did you actually go to a shrink to get that analysis?" She tried to twist her wrists free, the way she'd learned in that defense class.

"Didn't have to."

She managed to get her hands free, and darted back before he had a chance to capture them again. She watched him stand up slowly. For a moment she hesitated when she saw the way he was trembling.

"I have work tomorrow," he groaned. "You stopped me last time. Can you just be reasonable and let me have this one?"

She flew at him again. Not a collision, this time. He blocked her oncoming punch easily. As well as the next, and the next. But each one drove him a step backwards, until they came around the clock tower in the middle of the roof.

A red and blue flash from below caused both of them to look down to the street in front of the museum. A couple black uniformed officers were holding back a handful of people who had gathered. Most with their cell phones out, aimed at the roof. A news van had shown up as well, and Thia caught sight of a cameraman with his lens turned right on her and the thief.

"I'm dead," he whispered.

She looked back to see his face had gone white as a sheet. Through his goggles she could see his eyes were wide in what looked suspiciously like terror.

"Gotta go." He turned. And ran.

"No, you don't!" After all this, she was not letting him get away so easily.

She went to attack, but was stunned when his fist collided with her stomach. Hard.

"I'm sorry."

All this time, she realized, he'd been holding back.

When she tried to regroup, he had already pulled out his grappling hook. With a flick of his wrist it tangled around her ankles, coiling all the way up to her knees. He wrapped the other end around a narrow heating duct that jutted out of the roof.

She was once more tethered, with enough slack to rise only two or three feet in the air.

And he was already disappearing into the shadows with the necklace.

All that, and she might as well have just stayed at home for much needed sleep.

Thia sighed as she went to work untangling her feet, knowing he would be long gone by the time she did.

And she still had a ten a.m. math class.

#

Jack woke up to a pounding on the door of his room. He didn't know what time it was – only that it was way too soon for him to be waking up.

The sheets against his bare chest were freezing. As was the air around him. His powers must have flared in his sleep. Again. Great. He was starting to think that was something he should worry about.

He opened one eye the slightest bit, and looked toward the door of his bedroom, which he'd locked and dead bolted before he'd collapsed into bed at four in the morning. Four and a half hours ago, according to the green numbers that glared down from the clock on his nightstand.

A little bit of sunlight leaked through the blinds on the windows, illuminating his otherwise dark room.

He closed his eye again, his tired brain wondering what had woken him up.

"Get up, Jackson!"

Oh, right.

Jack opened his eyes, vision blurry from sleep that wouldn't let him go when he needed about five more hours (he'd been accruing a sleep debt all week). He'd known he wouldn't get much this morning, since he had work. But this was earlier than he'd planned.

"Hang on," he called.

Slowly he brought his hands up to brace them on the mattress, pushing his chest and shoulders off the black sheets that glistened with frost. With a deep breath he rolled out of bed, feet hitting the carpeted floor. He rubbed his eyes as he grabbed the pouch off the corner of the nightstand and headed for the door.

He fumbled with the deadbolt and the chain lock before he was finally able to get the door opened.

"Cat's Eye necklace," he said, holding it out while not actually looking at the man in front of him. "I was gonna bring it by your office after work – there ya go. Good night."

The man grabbed the pouch from him with spindly fingers, not even pausing to look inside – Jack cringed when they brushed over his skin. His grey eyes were livid."You were seen."

Jack cringed.

For a few blissful minutes he'd managed to forget that detail, and the wrath he would face for it. Now he remembered. And he was no longer wondering why the man was in his apartment.

When Jack didn't react, he went back into the living room of Jack's apartment. He grabbed the remotes in a long-fingered hand and turned on the TV, switching to the local news channel.

Jack looked at the news anchor on the screen, but barely registered her blood orange suit before the image on the screen changed. It took a moment for his tired brain to recognize the roof of the museum.

"_After nearly two years of being terrorized by the cat burglar responsible for the theft of 27 priceless pieces of art across the Burgess area, BNC's camera was finally able to capture footage of the thief. Footage police believe may be the first real break this case has had."_

"Is she getting paid by the word?" Jack muttered, trying to keep up with her long winded sentence.

"_This was the scene at 3:15 this morning when the thief was confronted by the superhero known as Toothfairy."_

She complained about him calling her "Kitten" but she let people call her "Toothfairy". Jack was still trying to figure that one out. He had chosen Kitten because, after the first time it have come out, he'd decided it was an improvement.

On the screen, she dove toward him, a blur of green and purple. His body ached at the memory of rolling down the roof. Thankfully that roll had taken them out of the camera's view. There were parts of last night he really didn't want his handler seeing.

The video jumped forward to when they'd come back into view. And the camera zoomed in on the fight. Specifically, on Jack's face. The poor lighting had made the footage low quality to begin with, and the high zoom made it worse. The edges were blurred, so it was impossible to tell exactly what his features looked like. His eyes were hidden behind his goggles. It was hardly enough for them to make an accurate police sketch. If anything, all they really got was his white hair.

Jack tugged the ends of his bangs down, eyes tilting up to check they were currently brown.

It could have been worse.

But it still wasn't good.

The image on the screen changed and they both looked over to see Police Chief Biddle on the steps of the museum, looking sufficiently serious and pleased with the situation.

"_The loss of the Cat's Eye necklace is unfortunat__e__,"_ he said. _"but this is the first real break in the case. As long as we didn't know what he looks like, we had nothing to go on. Toothfairy has been less than cooperative__,__ on that subject."_

The girl put on skintights and flew around to protect a city – and they still gave her a hard time over technicalities. Jack would have admired her if he didn't hate people so much.

"_He'__s__ covered his tracks well,"_ Biddle went on. _"But now he'__s__ slipped up, and that will be his downfall. We may not have a clear picture of his face, but that hair will make him impossible to miss."_

The image on the screen blinked off with a small click, and Jack slowly looked over to see the man towering over him.

"I gave you simple instructions," he said, his deep voice casual, as though they were discussing the weather. "Steal the Cat's Eye, don't be seen. Because, if you're seen, it will compromise all of us. It's not complicated."

Jack scratched his shoulder, desperate for anything to do with his hands.

"We have a deal, Jack."

"I know."

"Do you, Jackson? Because I'm starting to wonder. If you really cared about your sister, and yourself, you would take more care. Never mind the investment I've made in you – the fact I gave you a chance you wouldn't have had without me. Both of you."

Jack bit his tongue, looking down at the floor.

The remote landed on the couch as the man dropped it from his long fingered hands. From the corner of his eye Jack eyed the man warily, waiting, dreading.

"You got lucky this time – but it doesn't change the fact you still failed. So consider this a warning. The next time, you won't be so lucky. And I won't take the fall, Jack. Consider that the next time you think about growing lax again."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, the words making it past the lump rising in his throat. Every part of him wanted to fight… but he knew what the price would be.

"I hope you understand, Jackson," he said coolly. "I'd hate to have to pay a visit to little Emily, after all."

It took all Jack's strength to keep from lunging at the older man. But Emily. That was enough to keep his fists at his side, and his feet rooted to the floor. So all he said was "I understand." It was all he could say. All he'd been able to say for years, ever since the black haired man had walked into his life and wrenched control of the strings.

"I have a board meeting to attend – and I have to sign off on the insurance for the necklace. And that skylight." He made a sound of displeasure in his throat. "That little fairy is more trouble than she's worth. We'll let this media circus die down before we make another hit. So, enjoy your time off."

The door closed behind the man, and Jack was still for a moment before he went over to the couch and picked up the remote. He rubbed his neck as he hit the power button, turning the TV back on. Going back to be was an appealing idea, but there wasn't time.

The screen lit up just in time so he could watch himself punch Toothfairy in the stomach. That made him sick to his stomach. Through everything, he'd done his best to never really hit her. The occasional graze – but never a full on blow.

He exhaled as he sat down on the couch.

Finally the news story changed, now talking about the man recently arrested in association with organized crime in the city. Apparently the threat of a life sentence with no chance of parole was enough to make the man's tongue start running.

With the police desperate to crack down on organized crime (since supervillains were out of their league), they jumped on any information they could get.

Fine. Jack was mostly for that… if only it wouldn't come out of his own skin. But they would have done well to keep a tighter lid on the news.

The moment he heard the word "Nightmare King" come from the news anchor's lips, he knew the man would be dead before the end of the week. The only thing he didn't know was how his handler would do it.

Jack shook his head. His opinion of the police was mixed. But in this they'd made a huge mistake. Whether the PR department had handed the story over, or it had been leaked, it was a mistake. The Nightmare King didn't stand when he was betrayed.

Jack knew that better than most.

The only ones who knew it better were the ones who were already dead.


End file.
